Earlier Events, including a brief interruption, and now continuing from the journals of Iantheia, Princess of Winding, upon her return to the Kingdom.
It is unbelievable to me that I must be in such a place as Winding again. I just cannot abide it. I cannot. And yet, I must. What other choice do I have?
This morning Joli politely inquired whether I read back through my journals. I stared at her, then said. "No, why should I? I'm not writing some girlish diary just for amusement. It helps to organize my thoughts if I write them. I know what I've written and have no desire to look back."
"So, you can only move forward?" she asked, eyes dropping to the floor.
"Of course. What else is there?"
I didn't tell her how unbearable it would be, how it would break my heart if I had to relive my past and how wonderful my life was in Catha compared to here. I gave up too easily. I should have fought harder, begged Lady Hildegale on my knees, nevermind how foolish I would have looked in front of that man, Roddy.
It is worse here than I imagined. It is pitiful. While the Great Hall was closed off years ago, when all the furnishings were sold, now even the Lesser Hall isn't used. Part of the roof collapsed. The smell of mildew is everywhere these days.
Father keeps to his study most of the time, but mother is in the kitchen always. Food is prepared there and eaten in the kitchen too. Sometimes the table is barely cleared off, rarely is it covered. Not that Winding has anything but rough linens. We all might as well be servants. We spend most of our time in the servant's halls. The main halls not fit anymore for passage, stones missing from the walls or cracks in the ceiling let in the all kinds of weather, drafts and mold, even a mushroom or two or three. The West Chapel had a beam collapse, and one of the walls cave in. It hasn't been fixed yet. Mother keeps the books, and money is much too tight right now, she tells me.
There are no maids, no seamstresses, no laundresses, and no ladies-in-waiting. All the young girls were sent home as Mother couldn't feed or clothe them properly. She can barely manage to feed me and Joli and all the Aunties. Unfortunately my Godmothers still abound. There is no escaping them.
When I first complained about the lack of servants Mother looked at me and said, "Really Iana, you can manage those things on your own."
I do. I cook. I clean. I sew. I wash. I do it all alongside Joli, Mother and the Aunties. I shouldn't have to do it. I am a Princess after all. I want to cry and scream and cannot do that either.
I'm cold all the time, from the wind sneaking around the corners and we sleep with such threadbare blankets. The only fire is kept in the kitchen. There isn't enough wood, only what little Olwen manages to collect. Luckily, by afternoon the sun warms the castle somewhat.
Food is scare. Most meals are barely soup and onions. I hate onions. The fruit trees haven't even blossomed yet. There is something quite wrong with that. It is all wrong. I can feel it. A stiffness in the air that I don't remember. A wordless tension that the Aunties try to hide. They give me smiles and tease me as before. They torment me constantly. But there is something missing. A fearfulness just out of reach. They dismiss my concerns when I ask them what is wrong.
Mother said the chimes didn't ring as joyful anymore, that they didn't ring at all. She was right. I was shocked to see it. The Chime Tower completely silent. Empty. Not even the strings hanging from the lofty ceiling. There are no chimes to ring. The last of Winding's pride sold to pay off debts, I suppose. I haven't had the heart to ask mother about it yet.
Even still there are debts to be paid, and no money in the kingdom to pay them. It was not always this way. There was a time when I was five or six years in age when everything was different. Before the cursemaker came. At least Joli never suffered, and I have learned to cope well enough.
There is nothing to done. No use wallowing and wailing about the past, what once was. I must move forward. If I am stuck again in Winding, a pauper princess once again, then I must find something to smile about. That is the only way forward. And now that I have decided, that is exactly what I shall do.
to be continued . . .
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